


Periculum

by therealaisabelle



Series: Haikyuu Greek Myth AU [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Body Worship, Choking, Daddy Kink, F/M, Gentle Kissing, Gentle Sex, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Size Difference, Size Kink, Smut, Soft Dom Mattsun, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:34:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27866926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealaisabelle/pseuds/therealaisabelle
Summary: Your barely functioning brain vs. Greek Mythology that isn’t even mythology.Or you find out there’s really more to your beautiful boyfriend and his friends than meets the eye.
Relationships: Matsukawa Issei/Reader
Series: Haikyuu Greek Myth AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036179
Comments: 11
Kudos: 82





	Periculum

**Author's Note:**

> Imma be honest with you...

Matsukawa Issei’s existence was a fever dream to you.

If tall, dark, and handsome were a person, it would be him. If mysterious were a person, it would be him. If sex, grew legs, and hands, and a head, and had a face, and a personality it would be him; Matsukawa Issei.

He was always so…laid back, nothing ever seemed to bother the giant of a man.

You couldn’t say for sure what his position at the funeral home was but, you assumed it was high enough to explain the way he seemed to be fucking loaded. He never really tried to show off either, but it was obvious in the expensive suits he wore to work, and the classy watches, and the shiny shoes. It was also obvious in the purring of the engine of his 2017 Aston Martin DB11. It was always in pristine condition, the black always shimmering like a polished diamond whenever it pulled up to the front of the building. You’d taken several of his calls asking you to let his partner- _one, Hanamaki Takahiro, appealing in his own right, really the only grown man you knew who could pull off that particular shade of pink hair_ \- know that he was taking a ‘car day’ off. It was his baby, he claimed.

The man never actually came off as ostentatious, but the way he carried himself made you weak. His posture was terrible, and his presence would never be complete without a joint dangling between his fingers. Yet, he never smelled like weed, he always smelled like sea salt and sunscreen. Yet, when he would flash you that crooked grin and wink at you jokingly the blood in your veins would break out in exaltations at the attention.

Your position as the receptionist had opened the door to many… _awkward_ situations regarding Matsukawa and his partner. Many clients, that is, widows and even one or two widowers had inquired about the relationship status of the men and you’d been encouraged- _by said men_ \- to let clients know that they should worry about mourning their losses before anything else. It was always satisfying watching these people remember that they’d just lost a ‘loved one’.

The first time you met Matsukawa he’d paused in the entrance of the building and stared at you for long enough that it made you uncomfortable. When he approached the reception desk with that slanted smirk on his face, your vagina had decided that she would never work again unless it was for this man, and she hadn’t. 

Two weeks later he’d asked you out, it was a pathetic attempt and the wrong time, but you’d agreed to dinner before he could even finish the question; the screaming woman between you two was the only thing that had stopped you from dragging him into the employee bathroom and showing him how eager you actually were.

Your relationship was… _unreal_ to say the least. You never learned what Matsukawa’s position was right away, but it never bothered you because people never stopped dying so his being rich made sense, somehow. Your first anniversary had been a blindfold affair, he’d woken you up at 3:30 am and lucky for him you’d fallen asleep during the car ride and remained asleep until you’d landed in Italy. When the blindfold was finally removed you’d stared at Matsukawa like he was fucking insane because, how had you been with him for a year and not known that he: a) had access to the company’s private jet and b) could speak fluent Italian. He’d checked you in to your hotel and chuckled when the honest-to-god manager had taken one of his bags. 

You’d known then that there was something more, something you were missing. You’d met one other friend beside Hanamaki, Iwaizumi Hajime; he was something else.

On a regular day, when the sun was out and the sky was ridiculously blue, not a cloud in sight Iwaizumi was a welcome distraction to Makki and Mattsun’s antics, a silent force keeping them mostly in line with a single glare or a pursing of his lips, like some sort of mom. 

On days when it rained, when the lightning and thunder were so bright and loud that it interrupted the flow of electricity, Iwaizumi would show up, umbrella in one hand, and a scowl etched on his beautiful face- _seriously Matsukawa’s friends were all crafted by celestial beings_ \- and without exchanging a single word your boyfriend and Hanamaki would leave with him. No explanation. Not even an “I’ll see you later,” from Mattsun.

Those were red flags.

Those were really, fucking red flags. 

You’d primed yourself up by the time your second year of being together successfully had rolled around, to ask him if he was involved in illegal things. By then, you’d gotten your first degree and was currently working on the next one while teaching at the elementary school near where you lived. You’d been surprised when he’d laughed in your face, but he’d explained that he was actually co-owner of the funeral home- _the fact that you didn’t know that was seriously disappointing-_ and that it had been in their family for a while. You’d never been more relieved than at that moment.

Now though, as you continue to stare into the eye holes of the half-bird thing that was shrieking at you, you think maybe, he forgot to add some important information. It snaps at you and pauses when you whimper. It was grotesque and you were never able to look at things like this in movies but for some reason, you could not turn away from it. The head reflected that of a woman, there were no eyes in the sockets, and when it leans in close to you and takes a deep inhale, you screw your eyes shut and bite your tongue so you don’t gag at the smell. 

You imagine there must be some irony in the fact that you worked at a funeral and never knew that death had a smell up until now. It flaps its fleshy wings, and you wince. The thing must decide that you’re not what it’s looking for because it snaps its jaws shut and hops away from you, where you’re pressed against the wall. It regards you with a blank stare once more before taking off in the direction of the door, you don’t understand how it opens it but there’s screaming coming from outside and you can see from the open doorway as people scatter while it heads toward the staircase. 

You sit there for a second glancing out at the space where whatever the fuck that was had just shattered a floor to ceiling, reinforced glass window. Your phone is somewhere between the broken shards, but you can’t move. You glance around at the room and note that the wind from this high has disrupted most of the papers in Mattsun’s office. They’re also scattered among the broken shards.

You don’t know how long you sit there staring out of the window, but you don’t hear when someone approaches you, don’t see when they wave their hand in front of your face, or hear when they call your name. You don’t react when you’re picked up bridal style. You’re enveloped in the scent of sea salt and sunscreen until you’re set down into a bathtub of ice-cold water and then you gasp. Your muscles contracting as they come in contact with the scorching liquid.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Someone grasps your face in between their palms and is whispering that you’re okay. You’re not even crying, you’re just trembling, and it could be because they’d just dunked you in a bathtub of cold water fully dressed.

“It’s okay,” Your brain has begun to identify sounds again. The deep soothing baritone of this voice is familiar, and you associate it with late night drives, movie marathons and lovemaking. It’s Issei. 

—————————————————

Issei can’t get the image of your shaking form out of his head. 

When the alarm had tripped and his and Makki’s phone had sounded simultaneously he’d been racing out the door before confirming what had tripped it. All he knew was that you were in the building and that could be a problem.

He’d violated several laws and for sure earned himself more than one ticket with the way he’d driven like a mad man. He’d swerved through traffic with no seatbelt on, run red lights, forget to use his indicator; he would have to speak to Sawamura at some point. He’d watched from the street as the harpy had crashed into the window to his office, he’d listened to your scream and he could hear Hanamaki shouting for him to slow down as he raced up the stairs to the top floor. The harpy couldn’t be there for you, you weren’t even a descendant of Ancient Greeks, the odds of you being involved in their world was low. 

By the time he’d gotten to the second floor he could hear his employees screaming and the distinct clack, clacking of taloned feet against the tiled floor. It was coming straight toward him. Matsukawa had paused. As far as he knew he hadn’t upset any of Zeus’ children recently. Which meant there was an employee who’d fucked up. He didn’t care about that. The funeral home made it a point to hire members of their own…community. They could take care of themselves or the insurance policy would cover it. The last full-blooded human employee was you. That was a year and a half ago. 

Matsukawa pulled open the door to the first floor and came face to face with the harpy. No matter how many times he’d seen them he’d never get over their features. The leathery wings were barely covered by the molting feathers and the gaping holes where its eyes should be were leaking some sort of dark liquid. He’d simply moved out of its way because it clearly hadn’t come for him. They’d figure out which employee was stupid enough to fuck over Zeus or his family when they did a headcount.

He’d looked up as the harpy scampered down the stairs and saw you then, and he knew he’d fucked up. He’d had two years to get you acquainted with his world. To tell you who he was, what he was. He’d gotten permission to tell you the truth a while back; he was just scared. Scared that you would leave him, scared because he’d have to let you go. 

Hanamaki had finally caught up to him then and taken in his frozen stare. He’d stepped in as the other half of the head of the company. Checking to make sure everyone was alright. Matsukawa had walked into his office heart pounding and taken one look at you; shaking violently against the wall, eyes wide and completely unresponsive, and picked you up. It was shock. He knew your brain couldn’t come to terms with what it had just seen.

By the time he’d set you down in the tub your shaking had lessened and when you gasped at the contact, he knew he’d snapped you of it. You’d clung to him as he dried you and changed you out of your damp clothes and Mattsun hoped you couldn’t feel the way his heart was trying to escape his rib cage with the way it was crashing into it. He got you settled into your bed, your back pressed to his front.

“Did you see it?” You finally ask after the silence stretches past uncomfortable and Mattsun closes his eyes at how small your voice sounds. Nothing like the woman who has called him out on several occasions for his shit. “Did you see the thing?”

“They’re called harpy’s,” He answers. “They’re a part of ancient Greek history.”

He sighs when he feels you stiffen in his hold. “You know what they are…” You whisper. “You knew…before today?”

You pull away from his chest and Matsukawa wants to protest but the way you were staring at him freezes him.

“Issei,” You whisper. “How…how do you know what they are?” You begin to back away from him. Scooting slowly across the bed. Matsukawa wants to reach out and drag you back into him, but he knows better. This conversation would either break him or leave him giddy. Based on the way your bottom lip was trembling he was leaning towards the break.

“I’m a Demigod,” He needs a fucking joint for this conversation. He watches your jaw slacken. 

“Issei? What?”

“You know? Half-god, half-something else?” He turns away to look at one of the pictures on your wall when you bite on the plump flesh to stop the quivering. “In my case it’s half-human.” You stare at the side of his face for a long time and when you finally open your mouth, Matsukawa’s not sure how he feels.

“I’ve been fucking a Demigod,” You finally gasp, and Matsukawa’s mind stalls. What?

“What?”

“I’ve been fucking a Demigod for almost three years,” You repeat, as though that’s more important than the fact that he’s kept this information from you for the same amount of years. 

“Uh,” Mattsun watches as you stand from the bed and begin to pace.

“It makes sense now,” You mutter. “I’d never had an orgasm before you-” Mattsun knew that, “-and then the next thing I knew I was cumming more than once in one night-” and he also knew he was responsible for that, “-and the way you eat pussy?” You pause to regard him with a critical eye. Lip no longer quivering, instead, you were frowning.

Matsukawa is floored. He really is, but he can’t decide if he’s happy that you don’t actually care about the fact that he didn’t tell you or concerned about the way you’ve seemed to associate his Demigod status with his sexual prowess. He zones out your mumbling.

“Princess,” He interrupts. “The way I fuck you has nothing to do with my being a Demigod.”

“Prove it,” You respond breathlessly. “Prove it, Issei.”

Matsukawa sits forward from where he’s leaned against the headboard. Elbows coming to rest on his bent knees. “We have to talk about thi-”

“I don’t want to,” You interrupt, with a wave of your hand. Mattsun watches you climb onto the bed, you’re not wearing shorts, just a too big t-shirt that he doesn’t recognize as his own and a pair of panties, that’s what he’d dressed you in. He watches as your hips sway behind you, as the shirt raises up to reveal the flesh of your ass and thighs. He watches through the mirror on your vanity as your thighs flex with every movement. He watches as you lick your lips when you get between his knees. “ ’Want you to prove it.”

Mattsun’s not giving in. This situation requires a serious conversation, and he knows he won’t regret not having this conversation, but you will. So, when long fingers wrap around your throat, he uses it to drag you onto his lap so that you’re straddling him. When he pulls your face close to his you sigh, thinking you’ve won. He gives you a chaste peck and adjusts himself so that he’s comfortably leaning against the headboard once more and you’re sitting in his lap. His hands drop to your waist.

“I’d love to spend the rest of the day fucking you,” He admits when you pout. “But we have to talk about this.” He squeezes your waist. “This is not something sex will solve or make disappear.” He watches you bow your head. “Stop it, princess. I won’t stop being a demigod if you fuck me and the fact that you came face to face with a harpy won’t change.”

“Okay,” You acquiesce.

“You have questions,” Matsukawa says. He knows you do. “Ask them.”

You look up at him then, really look at him. He’s tense, his shoulders stiff and the way he’s holding you, it’s almost like he thinks you’ll run away. “I’m not leaving you because of this Issei.” 

“You should,” He points out. “I could’ve told you last year, you could’ve been better prepared for something like this.”

“Issei,” You say, slipping your palms up to his cheeks. “I doubt anyone, no matter the species, will ever be prepared for something like this.”

“It should have never happened,” Matsukawa turns to kiss the inside of each palm. “At least it wasn’t there for you.”

“Who…Who was it there for?” 

“Someone else.”

“How do you know that?”

“They’re like Zeus’ form of Karma,” Matsukawa explains. “If you fuck him over, expect harpies to come swooping in, either to collect some form of collateral or to collect you…” He trails off.

“Zeus…” Your hands slip from his face. “Uh…Who’s your father or mother? I dunno how thi-”

“Poseidon,” Mattsun grabs your hands in his. “God of the Seas and etcetera.”

“Okay,” You nod. “So, harpies, Zeus’ lapdogs; Issei, Poseidon’s son.”

“Hiro and Iwaizumi, too,” Mattsun adds.

“Oh…” 

“We have another brother our age,” Mattsun groans. “Oikawa Tooru.”

You freeze. “Oi-Oikawa?”

Matsukawa watches your brain wrap around this new piece of information. “Yeah.”

“The volleyball player?” Mattsun isn’t surprised. He knows you’re not interested in sports, but Oikawa’s been on the cover of Volleyball Monthly multiple times and according to the female populous he was one of the most breathtaking men in existence. Matsukawa tries not to think about the whiny, manipulative piece of shit that Oikawa actually is. He can’t help it; the man may be talented and their father’s favorite, but it didn’t change the fact that he was a certifiable asshole.

“Are all Demigods…beautiful?” 

Mattsun pauses to think about it. All the other Demigods he’d met were relatively attractive. “I guess.” He frowns. “Please, don’t tell me you have a crush on my brother.”

He blinks when you don’t reply. “Oh, my gods,” Mattsun groans. “He has the least control of his powers, any little inconvenience and suddenly there’s extreme flooding in Argentina or there’s a fucking thunderstorm forming out of thin air over Tokyo.”

Recognition crosses your features. “He’s a bitch,” Mattsun continues. “We’re usually the last resort when Hajime can’t get him to calm down.”

“You sound very happy about that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mattsun chuckles. “He’s still our older brother, and he did take care of us for a few years after we found out about our parentage.”

You hum your understanding. “So, Oikawa makes it…rain? Creates storms?”

Mattsun smiles. “Storms actually, they’re not supposed to be able to form over land masses, but the piece of shit is so powerful he fucks with the temperature of the air anywhere he is.”

He was not very good at explaining things, but he could already see your next question. “Iwaizumi got the Earthquake gene? I don’t know, but he’s the oldest. He’s had more time to separate his emotions from his power over the tectonic plates, otherwise, we’d be fucked.”

He watches your eyes widen. “Hiro can talk to fish.” He knows you don’t mean to laugh by the way you slap your palm over your mouth afterward and stare at him in apology. “You can laugh beautiful, it’s fine. He can’t actually talk to them, but they can understand each other…” Mattsun trails off.

“And you Issei?” He can see the way your heart is racing in your throat and maybe he should be concerned about how eager you are but, you’re watching him excitedly and he likes the way your pupils have dilated, and the way your lips are parted, the way you’re wiggling restlessly in his lap.

“Freshwater,” He answers. “I can manipulate fresh water.” He’s distracted by the way your movements have brought your pussy right over his clothed crotch. He watches you swivel your hips and immediately grabs them. “Stop it.” You freeze and Mattsun tuts. “What is going on in that head of yours? We’re talking about things that you didn’t know existed before today. Things I didn’t tell you.”

You flush, your cheeks heating up when he continues. “What about deceitfulness turns you on?”

You glare at him and Mattsun knows he’s said the wrong thing.

“Baby, that’s no-”

“Okay, Matsukawa-San,” He flinches at the honorific. “You want me to be mad at you right?” You try to shift off his lap and he squeezes your hips. You push at his hands. “Let go of me.” You wiggle and Mattsun has to bite the inside of his cheek to stifle his moan. The movement drags you across his hardening member.

“I’m sorry,” He says, and your glare hardens. “I should’ve told you and I don’t deserve you. I was expecting you to be…a little more upset.”

“Well, I am now.”

“I’m so sorry,” He doesn’t let you go even as you continue to struggle, he wants to chuckle as your attempts to move his hands and slip out of his grasp fail. “I’m a coward, I don’t deserve you, princess.”

“You don’t,” You affirm. “But I want you, Issei and I’m not completely stupid. You can’t go around telling everyone you date something like this. I understand my trust had to be earned and I know you feel guilty about not telling me before I was attacked by the femme-pterodactyl. I don’t care though, because at least I know now.”

Matsukawa’s hands move up to frame your face when he kisses you. It’s nothing like any kiss you’ve shared over the past three years. This one is light and sweet and gentle. As opposed to the normal bachata of your tongues, this one represented a ballroom dance of emotions, a waltz of appreciation. He loved you and he was so grateful that he could find someone as understanding and kind as you. 

Your lips are chapped but still as soft as ever and you taste like fresh strawberries and bubblegum. Matsukawa's hands move down your arms when you pull yourself closer. Drifts down to your back and ghosts over your waist until they’re settling on your thighs. He squeezes them and when you gasp, he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue in between your lips. Your moan reverberates through him and his dick swells under you. He continues to run his hands along your thighs, squeezing and rubbing until he gets to the flesh of your ass and groans when they fill his hands.

You pull away first and Matsukawa chases after you, catching your bottom lip between his teeth. He smiles against your lips. “Thank you, Princess.”

“You’re welcome daddy,” Your response causes the tightening of Mattsun’s hands on your ass, and when he pulls back to land two smacks against each cheek you yelp.

“Gods, you’re gonna kill me,” Matsukawa leans forward to rest his forehead against your shoulder when you card your fingers through his curls. “I don’t deserve you.” He repeats his earlier statement, and you tug hard on his hair, so he’s forced to look at you. 

“Stop saying that Issei,” You’re pouting and Mattsun can’t help but peck you. “Daddy deserves the world.” You say against his lips. 

“Okay, but you’ve had an event-”

“Matsukawa Issei.”

“I’m not fucking you while you’re lik-”

“Daddy,” You whine. “Please, you can fuck me to sleep…” You wiggle triumphantly when his pupils dilate. 

Mattsun takes a deep breath. “You have to behave,” He says. “Don’t…don’t rile me up, I don’t wanna hurt you.” He punctuates each word with a kiss. “Okay?”

When you nod, he pulls your shirt off and stares? Mattsun has seen you naked plenty of times but he can never get over how fucking beautiful you are. He squeezes your tits gently and ducks his head to pop one nipple into his mouth while he rolls the other in between his thumb and index until it’s pebbled and then he switches. Your little moans and whimpers don’t go unnoticed by his cock. It’s painfully hard and throbbing against the clothing separating you.

He pulls away and you stand above him while he removes his pants and puts his phone on the bedside table. He works his shirt open and tosses it somewhere in the room and then puts his watch next to his phone. He stops you from sinking back to the bed with one hand. 

He leans forward and plants a kiss to your panty-clad pussy and you sink your fingers into his hair. He kisses each thigh from knee to hip and then looks up at you waiting for confirmation. You nod and he pulls your panties down and when he sees how wet you are, he abandons them at your ankles and surges forward to wrap his mouth around you. 

“Fuck,” You moan above him and Mattsun wraps a big palm around each thigh as he leans up, tilting his head to get his tongue right where you need him. You pull his head closer by the grip you have on it and when his tongue drags along your clit you can’t help the cry that escapes you. “Shit, Issei.”

Matsukawa’s eyes are closed in concentration and the sounds of his tongue lapping and his mouth sucking at you cause goosebumps to erupt along your spine. He’s moaning against your mound, sending the vibrations right to your clit and you know you won’t be able to remain standing for long if he keeps that up. One of his hands climbs to the crease where your ass meets your thigh, and he squeezes and your knees buckle.

Issei catches you and shuffles down the bed. He adjusts you so that you’re kneeling above his face. Cunt dripping onto his mouth. 

“Ride my face,” He demands. “Please, you taste so good princess, ride daddy’s face.”

You’re a good little princess and if daddy wants you to sit on his face then that’s exactly what you’re going to do. You settle against his mouth and when he flattens his tongue against you, you’re happy he’s holding onto your thighs. He moves them down to your ass and when he gives them a gentle squeeze that nudges you forward you begin to grind against his tongue. The friction is heavenly and the way Issei sucks at your clit gently makes you lightheaded.

“‘S so good, ‘Sei,” You slur, and then his big hands are smoothing up your waist as your grinding picks up. Massaging and squeezing at your sides, up to your chest where he rubs his roughened palms against the sensitive nipples, and then slowly, both hands come to settle at the base of your throat.

Your grinding becomes frantic. Your hands coming up to settle above his, trying to get him to tighten his grip. “Please, daddy,” You moan and Issei’s hands wrap fully around your neck and squeezes. Your pace falters and Issei squeezes harder. You’ve stopped moving altogether, suddenly hyper-aware of how easily he could strangle you. How much bigger he is than you are. His big hands and long fingers. You loved it, loved how little daddy made you feel. Your hands settle on his forearms and he pulls back enough to breathe.

“Need you to cum, princess,” Issei’s voice is deep and rough and he watches from his spot under you as your pussy clenches around nothing. Your slick begins to pool and Issei sticks his tongue out to swipe at it. “Cum, for daddy.” He says and then he latches onto your clit and sucks hard and squeezes the hands at your throat at the same time.

You cum with a scream. Body bucking against his mouth. He licks you through your orgasm, hands resting loosely around your throat until you’re shifting away, pulling his hands from your neck, and falling onto your ass on his chest. 

The view is phenomenal. Your lips are puffy and irritated, and your clit is swollen and pronounced, your little hole fluttering as you recover from your orgasm. Mattsun can’t help it, he runs a finger through your folds and chuckles when you whimper in protest. He pushes you down and sits up so you’re on your back between his legs, thighs strung over his. You’ve barely caught your breath before he sinks two thick fingers into you. 

“Fuck,” Mattsun groans. “Relax, prin- _shit_ ,” You clamp down so hard that he can’t even move his fingers. Mattsun takes in the way you’re still twitching from your first orgasm, the way your mouth has opened in a silent scream, and the way your pussy is gripping his fingers and realizes that he’s sent you into a second one. “Oh shit,” His dick throbs.

Your insides are warm and wet and so soft and the feeling of you around his dick has been branded onto his brain so that just the feeling of you around his fingers has his dick weeping, precum leaking it out in rivulets. 

He stays still until he’s sure you’re back to him. Runs his free hand up from your ankle to your knee, where he bends to give it a chaste kiss and then up to the meat of your thighs where he uses it to drag you a little closer. The movement shoves his fingers deeper inside of you and the tips ghost along the softest part of your walls. He rubs his thumb into your hips.

“It’s okay baby,” He coos. “Let me take care of you.” He pulls out slowly and smiles when you whimper. His good girl. The way your body reacts to him is a little flattering. It makes sense to him now, as he pumps his fingers into you slowly, building your third orgasm and cooing about how pretty you look like this and how good you were behaving for him, that you would think it was his relation to a god that made him good at this. 

It really wasn’t, you were just so fucking gorgeous when you cum, or moan, or breathe, or exist for him. He likes to watch, even if it means having you cum three or four times before he even pulls his dick out. Right now, he just needs to put you to sleep. The thumb of his free hand finds your clit and begins rubbing slow circles to match his thrusts. You break out in a sob. 

“Please, pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease,” Mattsun pauses just as you’re about to cum and pinches the nub hard. Your mouth falls open, no sound leaving it, your eyes disappear into the back of your head. Mattsun watches your cunt cream around his fingers as he resumes rubbing your clit. You stay like that for long enough that Mattsun wonders if he’s made you blackout again. But then you gasp, sucking air into your oxygen-deprived lungs and he pulls his fingers free to pull you up. 

“It’s okay,” He kisses you softly as he shifts so he can pull his dick out over the band of his boxers. You’re shaking, babbling your thanks to him for making you cum and when Mattsun runs the head of his dick through your puffy lips you groan in unison. “So, fucking wet.” He rolls you both so you’re laying on your side facing each other. One of your legs hangs over his waist. He has an arm under you, palm splayed out over your ass cheek and the other lining his cock up with your entrance. “Take a deep breath for me.”

This was routine, Mattsun didn’t have a respectfully sized dick…he had a _monster_ cock and if you weren’t well-prepped, he could do some actual damage. You’d learned first-hand, the consequences of trying to fit that inside of you without being fully prepared, via an embarrassing trip to the gynecologist after Mattsun had _shifted_ your uterus. You took a deep breath and as Mattsun sank into you slowly you released it. 

“Fucki-” He groaned when you gave a small roll of your hips. “Ah shit.” You giggled breathlessly next to him. 

“You feel so good daddy,” You turn your head up to kiss along his jaw and up to his lips. You stick your tongue out and Mattsun sucks on it. Moaning against the muscle at the way each roll of your hips takes him a little deeper. Mattsun grows impatient and you know you’re in trouble when he pulls back to smirk down at you. “O- shi- wa- Mat-” He slams into you and your body locks up. Your cunt protesting at the stretch with a wet squelch. You try to bite your lip to muffle your moans and Mattsun doesn’t like that.

“Daddy wants- _fuck-”_ your walls tighten around him as he drags out so just the head remains, “-to hear your- _princess, fuck_ \- pretty moans.” He sinks back in, moving his hand to the back of your knee to pull your leg higher up his waist, it spreads you open wider and when the head drags even deeper along your insides you squeal.

“Oh, gonna cum,” You slur out.

“Yeah?” He’s close too, never able to last very long once your soft walls are wrapped around him. “Do it, princess, cum on daddy’s cock.” He picks up the pace. Ramming into you faster, your eyes roll into the back of your head and Mattsun feels goosebumps erupt along his arms and thighs when your pussy contracts. “Oh _, fuck._ ”

His hips still inside of you. He grinds the head against the entrance to your cervix and the pain mixed with the pleasure sends you head-first into your orgasm. Mattsun watches your body go limp as you gush around him. The pressure threatens to force his cock out but when the liquid begins spilling out around it he glances down and the sight of your body milking his cock, your pussy forcing your cum out in rivulets pushes him into his own orgasm.

He cums with your name on his lips, head buried against your throat, he fills you up and the feeling of his warm cum inside of you starts another orgasm amid the current one then Mattsun’s dick is forced out of you as you squirt all over is his cock and lower abdomen. You’re whimpering thank you’s, eyes barely open, body spasming in his hold and Mattsun knows you’re five seconds from falling asleep. He kisses you softly when he can finally feel his legs again and carries you to the bathroom to clean up.

Mattsun steps out into your kitchen after you’ve showered, and he helps you get dressed _again._ You’re out like a light. He doesn’t expect you to wake up anytime soon. He’s a little tired himself and plans to order take out and then crash after it arrives. He has his phone in one hand and he’s dressed in shorts that he’d left over, a towel around his neck. He expects to find his girlfriend’s cute white leather couch, matching armchairs, and glass coffee table staring back at him when he steps out of the hall, but he doesn’t and what he finds freezes him in place.

“Happy to know the talk went well,” Takahiro snickers. He’s perched, comfortably on the armchair furthest from Mattsun, closest to the door. His sock-clad feet are propped up on the coffee table and Mattsun sighs. On the chair closest to Mattsun, opposite Makki is Iwaizumi Hajime, he’s smirking openly at Mattsun and Mattsun’s not sure if he should be worried about that yet, because the clacking of shoes against the wooden floor distracts him.

He turns in time to watch Oikawa Tooru emerge from your kitchen. He’s immaculately dressed, in a three-piece suit, hair artfully coifed, face disturbingly void of blemishes and he’s holding a piece of your homemade milk bread in one hand a bottle of water in the other.

He moves to the couch and plops down as though he doesn’t see Mattsun. 

“This is so good, Iwa-chan!” He takes a nibble out of the bread and moans around it. “Whoever she is, she can bake.”

“That’s her favorite,” Mattsun grumbles. Oikawa turns to him with a grin then.

“Mattsun!” He motions for Mattsun to join him on the couch and Mattsun ignores him. Slipping into the kitchen for a tissue before handing it to Oikawa. 

“Please don’t leave a mess,” He walks over to Hanamaki and slaps his feet off the table. “Have some manners.”

Oikawa freezes.

“I told you he was whipped,” Makki chuckles. Mattsun glares at him.

“Why are you here?”

“Well,” Oikawa answers. “You weren’t answering our texts and we just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“Oikawa just wanted to meet your girl,” Hanamaki amends. 

“It’s been almost three years!” Oikawa exclaims. “She’s met you two, it was about time she met me!”

“Can you keep it down?” Mattsun groans. “She’s had a rough day; she needs to sleep.”

“I bet she has,” Iwaizumi chuckles. “An especially rough day.” Mattsun feels the heat rise in his cheeks as they all turn to stare at him.

“I am, deeply concerned that, not only did you break into my girlfriend’s apartment, and eat her fucking milk bread,” He turns to glare at Oikawa then, “But you listened to us have sex.”

The silence afterward stretches on for a second too long before Hanamaki breaks into a cackle and soon all four of them are cracking up.

“Does she…always fall asleep right afterward?” Iwaizumi asks between breaths.

“Yes,” Mattsun sighs. “She does.”

“I can’t wait to meet her,” Oikawa grins. “Does she know who I am?”

“Yes.”

“I always thought, you’d be the one to find a gold digger,” Oikawa admits. Mattsun sucks his teeth. 

“Not all of us are like you Oikawa,” Iwaizumi retorts.

“Iwa-chan! That’s mean.”

“She’s a doll,” Hanamaki says. “Literally the nicest person I’ve ever met.”

“Pretty much,” Iwaizumi agrees. “I’ve only ever seen her mad once…” He trails off as all three of them shiver remembering the one-time Mattsun had fucked up.

“Hmm,” Tooru takes a look around the apartment. “Yes well, she’s definitely not a gold digger.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Hanamaki laughs.

“Please,” Mattsun adds. “You make me want to punch your gods' damned teeth in every time I see you.”

Oikawa glares at them.

“If that’s all,” Mattsun stands and moves to the front door where he opens it and makes a sweeping motion with his hands. “Please, get the fuck out.”

He lifts a quizzical brow at Iwaizumi who hangs back. “What?”

“Is she really okay with what you are?” He asks. Mattsun fights the urge to hug him, he wishes there was an ounce of irresponsibility in Iwaizumi so he could live his life freely.

“Yeah, she’s good with us,” Mattsun nods. “Fascinated, mostly…”

Iwaizumi stares at him for a moment before nodding and turning to the stairs without another word. Mattsun watches him disappear before closing the door.

He orders take out and climbs into bed with you. He smiles down at you when you immediately latch onto him. Hanamaki was right, he was fucking whipped.


End file.
